Captured
by 24LifeFox
Summary: What if Tony and Michelle wherwe kidnapped, and there daughter who hates them, was thier only chance for survival? Please RR! Post s4
1. Part 1

_A/N: Alright, this has been a work in progress, for a very long time. I have no idea wherethis came from, but I wrote this down and was able to drag it out into a story. So please tell me what you think! The chapters will get longer, I promise._

Part One

I sat on the porch step alone...yet again. I was always alone. I had no good friends, they all either started smoking or doing drugs in high school. God help me if my dad caught me doing that.  
'What do they care?', I thought. 'All they really care about is work! Work this, work that! They don't make time for me, none what so ever!'  
I was thinking about my good for nothing parents, Tony and Michelle Almeida.  
They where NEVER home. Always at work, no time for their 15-year-old daughter! As far as I was concerned, I had no parents. They didn't care about me, then why should I care about them? I probably never would. I'll bet if I got addicted to coke or crack they wouldn't lift a finger to stop me.  
I sighed. Then I saw a dark green Ford Expedition coming towards the house, Mom and Dad's work car. Only, it wasn't Mom in the passenger seat. And it wasn't dad driving...


	2. Part 2

Part two

I jumped up. 'What the hell is going on here? Where are mom and dad?' I thought franticly. I bounded inside. Snap, the family Border Collie, came over to me, knowing I was nervous. "Snap..." I said quietly scratching his ear.  
Then, the doorbell rang.  
Snap ran over to the door, barking. He always barked at doorbells, too bad he wasn't as fierce as he sounded. He was only you're perfect family dog. I followed him, completely thankful that dad had gotten the glass door replaced. "W-who is it?" I stammered.  
"Just open the door." A man's voice called.  
"I said, who is it?"  
"Open the door and find out." His voice was low, but calm. It scared me to know someone like that was just on the other side of a wooden door.  
'Oh God,' I thought. 'God help me! He wants to kill me!'  
The man pounded on the door. "OPEN THE DAMN DOOR JACKIE!"  
"Oh God! How do you know my name!" I was scared to death. Adrenaline pulsed through my veins. Snap had run off somewhere. Great.  
"I know all about you. Where you're parents work, where you go to school, all of you're friends. Now quit playing around and open the door or I'm going to break it down!" He was getting pissed.  
"NO!" I ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. I had played hide-and-seek a hundred times in this house so I knew all the best spots to hide, that a 10-year-old wouldn't look, but what about an adult? 'Who cares?' I thought as I climbed into the cupboard under my bathroom sink. 'I will if he finds me!' Just before I shut the door, Snap came up. "Go Snap, go hide!" I whispered hurridly. Snap could tell I was scared, I saw it in his eyes, that and love. But he still bounded off in to my bedroom.  
Not two seconds after I shut the cupboard door I heard a bang, followed by the splintering of wood. The door would have to be replaced, again.  
"You can't hide Jackie!" The man yelled from the front lobby. "No one can help you know!" I heard a small chuckle as he began to climb up the stairs. "No one...you're all alone, Jackie..." My breathing was shallow and my heart was pumping dangerously fast.  
All of a sudden I heard growling and three barks. Snap.  
"What the- Aggggggggghh get OFF me you mangy mutt!" I cowered into the back of the cupboard. Then I heard a thud, a whine, and then a gun being cocked. "You're a stupid dog. A stupid, mangy, son of a b!tch. See you in hell." He said. Then I heard a gun shot. Snap whimpered, then the house went quiet.  
"I'm going to find you, Jackie. And when I do, you'll regret ever being born."...


	3. Part 3

_A/N: Alright, thank you for the reviews. And if you really like this, I have another story, wich I think is better and it's called "The Begginings" so if you get time, I would love it if you could read it. Well, I'm not going to ramble, so here's chapter 3._

Part Three

I gulped, this guy was bent on getting me to where he was going next.  
"Jackie, come out come out wherever you are!" The man called through gritted teeth. "You can't hide! I WILL find you!"  
I had to do something to get away from him. Who knew what he could- would- do to me! I looked around the cupboard; Towels, pipes, toilet paper, a plunger. Nothing of use. I slid my leg to where it was stretched out, I just about hit the other side of the cupboard when I stubbed my toe on something really hard. I bit my lip to keep from saying something. I pulled the thing up, it turned out to be an iron bar. Boy, was I lucky!  
I heard him moving the shower curtains, like I would hide there!  
I crawled out of the cupboard, not closing it because it would ruin my cover. I slowly made my way over to the man. Once I was within arms length I started to raise the bar. Then an extra shot of adrenaline came, he turned around.  
"Well Jackie!" He said chuckling. "Looks like you've decided to come out and play!"  
"Shut up!" I yelled.  
"Ohhhh, stop! You're sooooooo mean!" He said with mock sadness.  
"Go. To. Hell." I said in a low but steady voice.  
"What did you say?" He asked, pulling out his gun and amind it at my head._(A/N: sorry if that doesn't make sense, but he just got P.O.ed that she said that to_ him _LOL)_  
"GO TO HELL!" I yelled and slammed the bar down on his head. The man fell to the floor, limp. Blood began to seep out of his head and onto the linoleum floor. He was dead.  
I sprung into action, I didn't know what I was doing, or how I knew to do it. I grabbed his gun, wallet, pocket knife and cell phone and stuffed it into a backpack. Then I froze. Realization hit me. 'I killed him! oh my God!' I thought. 'Don't worry about it now,' I told myself, 'You need to get out of here!' I rushed down the stairs and into the garage. I grabbed the Porche's keys and rushed across the garage. 'Dad's gonna kill me for this' I thought. I jumped into the driver seat. The leather was cold from inactivity. The car looked and smelled brand new. Dad called it his baby. But mom disagreed. She told me when I was 8 that Dad's Chicago Cubs mug was his baby. She said he had had it since they first meet, and that he called it "Cubby". I had laughed at this when my Mom told me. I had laughed because when I was 8, I believed they still cared about me.  
I sighed, pushed the garage door button and speed out onto the road...


End file.
